Heartless Angel
by kysis-the-bard
Summary: An epic retelling of Final Fantasy III/VI focusing on the rise of Kefka and his eventual fall to insanity in the first, with a mostly male cast, a darker twist and yaoi to boot. R&R cherished.
1. Another Victory

**Disclaimer:** I do not own FFVI, as much as I wish I did, so I could have made it this way. I don't make any money from this either. It just eats up my time and humors me.

**Content Note:** This is an epic retelling of FF3/6, delving further back into the past than the "present" game action is (the flashbacks do hit on it a little) and focusing on Kefka for the whole first half. This is an exploration of his character, before the experiments on him caused him to crack. I am using the game material, guides released by Square Soft and Nintendo Power, as well as the Final Fantasy Wiki in order to get more information on the characters and events, even if I am not going strictly by them. I am also taking a darker bent on the events of the game, as is my habit. But it's what I love, so yay.

**Character Note:** I am making a major change to the storyline of FF3/6, which you will all quickly realize. I am making Terra and Celes both men, for story purposes, and to open up a few new avenues. This will also add some humor in places later in the story, which will no doubt become quite obvious.

**Title Note:** The title I am using is coming from one of the moves Kefka has during the final battle of the SNES USA release of FF3. That translation calls it Heartless Angel, and it fits all too well with this story. When I was brainstorming for names "Dark Souls and Man Poles" was the first thing to pop to mind, which totally killed my brain. I just recently managed to come up with something serious and uncracky, though it will always be Dark Souls and Man Poles to me (and Chaos).

**Warnings:** Morbid topics, violence, mental illness, unethical practices, general darkness, explicit sexual content, yaoi, etc. Specific warnings will come at the top of every new chapter.

**Author's Note:** Sorry there is so much setting up this story!!! Every chapter will not have this much, I promise, but those notes are necessary in setting this up, I feel, because this is not a crack-fic, even if it is slightly AU, if barely. There will be notes on music where it is more important (I'll never include lyrics in the fic, but it helps for the background and mood, like in a movie).

**Pairing Notes:** There will be a lot. I'll deal with them as they come up, in the warnings.

* * *

**HEARTLESS ANGEL**

**Another Victory**

It was dark in Vector, thick clouds hanging perpetually over the imperial capital. The mere sight of the city had brought smiles to many of the troops' faces, something which had not been seen since they set out in the first place. The battlefield was not a place for smiles, even if they had all come back. It had been another decisive victory for the Empire, with a bare minimum of casualties. War was still war in the end, though.

Ahead was the towering mass of the Imperial Palace, only illuminated by faint points of yellow light here and there. That, for the past two years, had been like home to him, his small, mostly bare quarters a refuge. By now he knew most of the halls and winding back corridors, metal staircases and bizarre machines. His steps grew firmer, more resolute, as he ascended the grated metal stairs leading to the grand front of the palace where banners with the Emperor's crest fluttered in an artificial breeze.

Out of habit, Kefka compulsively straightened his green uniform before stepping through the doors of the palace, smoothing a hand over his neatly tied back blond hair. Cool blue eyes flicked over the entry hall, taking in his surroundings. They were more festive than he had been expecting. People stood on either side of the hall, smiling, clapping, banners streaming in the wind generated by fans at the top of the vaulted ceilings.

Kefka turned around on a deft heel, brows knitting together. The soldiers had no doubt turned off down the road, to head for the barracks, stranding him in the middle of _this_. Pursing his lips, gaze locked on the lavish red carpets, Kefka hurried onward, trying to ignore the boom of applause all together. It was difficult to do, echoing as it was through the entrance hall, seeming to follow him through the back passage ways to his small room.

The loud bang of his door closing muffled the sound, Kefka leaning back against the patchwork of metal with a sigh. Clicking the latch into place, Kefka pulled his flail from its holster, hanging it over the small desk at one end of the room. There was no need to change from his uniform. Judging from the committee greeting him, Kefka could tell there was going to be a banquet.

There should not be one. He could have done it better. There could have been fewer lives lost.

A victory was a victory, and as usual, the Emperor would praise him for it, decorate him with more medals, perhaps promote him from field commander to general. His second in command, Leo, had done a great deal as well, but no one would notice. Perhaps he would point it out.

With a frown, Kefka sat on his cot, staring down at the floor. Under his breath, he counted down. He started at ten, and, just after one, a knock sounded. He did not move to unbar the door. "Yes?" The word was low, the faint coloring of worry present, despite the fact that he knew exactly what this was about.

"The Emperor requests your presence for an honorary dinner tonight, Sir."

Of course. Kefka flexed a calloused hand, staring at it for a moment before responding. "I will be there." He would do anything for the Empire, now and always.

The hour passed slowly, trickling by without any further interruptions, but also without anything interesting. Kefka could hear the palace buzzing beyond his locked door, the people scurrying about to make sure everything was ready and perfect. Perfection… Kefka closed his eyes, dashing thoughts of said notion from his mind. Now was not the time.

When the time came, he _knew_. He could feel it, like the whole palace was holding its breath, the sudden cease of noise outside more than enough evidence. Tugging gloves over his rough fingers, Kefka unlatched the door, emerging into a transformed hallway.

Even a place like this, in the back recesses of the palace, had been decorated, various banners and lights giving the metal corridor life. Kefka blinked at the sudden brightness, frowning. His strides were quick once his eyes had adjusted, leading him this way and that, down this staircase, up this one, around a corner, and he found himself at the door of the food hall, long table already glistening with foods from the regions already under the Empire's control, even if that was only part of the southern continent. For now, at least.

Everyone stood at his entry, which was almost too much; at least they left off on the applause. Chewing lightly on his lip, Kefka finally walked forward, reading to take his usual seat when the Emperor's hand waved at him not to, instead pointing at the seat directly to his right, which had always been empty to Kefka's recollection.

All of the color must have drained from his sun-kissed face, because the Emperor laughed, putting on a merry smile. "This is a position you deserve. Come now. I'm starving."

He dared not hesitate, walking around the long table, finally coming to sit down, slowly, gingerly as though the chair would dissolve if he took it too eagerly. Kefka did not have to glance around much to notice the envious stares he received, nor did he really want to.

The Emperor sat, everyone following in suit. Kefka swallowed nervously, taking a sip of water the moment his chalice was filled.

Kefka ate in silence, hoping that if he finished his meal quickly, he could gracefully duck out of the revelry. That was not the case. As soon as he finished his plate, the Emperor ordered someone serve him more. Kefka's quick refusal was silenced by the growl of his own stomach, ravished by battle, and he began eating again, growing more and more self-conscious of the eyes upon him with every bite.

Quickly, he set down his fork. The plate was only partially finished. He could eat no more, not with so many people staring at him. When the Emperor laughed, Kefka knew why. The aging man, blond with thick streaks of grey through it, lines creasing his round face, leaned over, speaking lowly, but not lowly enough, to his ear. "Go on, give us a speech. That battle was amazing, from what I heard. Surely you have something to say."

His throat dried immediately, tongue feeling as though it was made of lead. Kefka swallowed to no effect, taking another sip of his water. Everyone else had laid down their forks, even Kefka's second in command, all eyes trained on him expectantly. The excitement in the room was palpable.

Shakily, Kefka stood. He regretted it at the sight of the many grins greeting the simple gesture. This was going to be ruinous. Kefka opened his mouth, nothing coming out. Thinking better of it, Kefka moved to sit back down, the Emperor putting a hand on his lower back, stopping that with a 'no, go ahead' which Kefka would have rather ignored. Instead, he lifted his untouched glass of wine, raising it. "To the Empire."

Each glass in the room was lifted, everyone taking a deep drink. Kefka took the opportunity to sit back down, having successfully avoided a full speech.

The second round of dessert trays was being cleared, people finally bidding their farewells, leaving. Kefka stared at the empty place before him, eyes tracing the patterns in the metal surface, shifting uncomfortably on his intricately welded chair. The racket of the room calmed down quickly, the unpleasant hums of chattering voices drifting away down various corridors. The quiet was peaceful.

Kefka stood, pushing in his chair after edging carefully around it. The Emperor was still finishing his third helping of the second dessert, no longer caring about anything but the food before him, which was perfectly fine. It was his empire, after all. Kefka would never question him.

"Wait."

His retreat from the room was cut off by a voice he knew all too well, foot hovering above the ground before he moved back, turning. Leo was smiling from ear to ear, bronze tanned skin alight with something like joy. Kefka did not get it.

"Congratulations." Extending his arms, Leo stepped up, pulling him into a warm hug. Kefka returned it awkwardly.

"It was hardly deserved." Kefka pulled back, glancing quickly over Leo's shoulder at the Emperor. "The revelry in general. I did not—"

"Shh." Leo did not stop smiling, a hand lingering on Kefka's arm. "You are an amazing man, all the more so since this fame isn't going straight to your head."

Kefka looked away, a dusting of pink creeping onto his prominent cheekbones. He chewed his lip nervously, something Leo did not seem to miss.

"I'm being serious. Everyone looks up to you. _I_ look up to you."

The flush only deepened, Kefka stepping away from the hand still on him. "Thank you. But, as I said—"

"Oh, so what, you aren't absolutely perfect, but you do a lot better than anyone else. Minimizing enemy casualties is brilliant, and a very noble thing to do." Leo nodded, as though agreeing with himself.

That was the last straw. "I could do better for the Emperor, and we both know it." Kefka turned, striding swiftly from the room, away from Leo. The further he went, the more the warm, fluttering feeling in his stomach lessened, and soon he was back in his room, with the door bolted, alone once more.


	2. Machinations

**Disclaimer:** I do not own FFIII/VI, the characters, etc, that's Square Soft (am I the only person who things Square Soft and Enix were better before they merged?). If I owned it, I'd have made the anthology release worthwhile instead of the pile o' poo it turned into. (yes, I'm biased; get over it)

**Warnings:** Dark themes, violence, unethical practices, yaoi, if you can guess the pairing I am starting out with, I'll give you brownie points (it should be pretty obvious), oh, and perhaps language too. I won't be so prim and proper in the main story as I am in these top thingies.

**Author's Note:** Not a Kefka you are used to, hmm? Well, I'm going by what the original guides, wiki, and flashbacks in the game allude to as per his personality before he lost it. Yes, I'm a nut for staying canon, which is why my twists in this are pretty shocking, for me at least. XD

* * *

**HEARTLESS ANGEL**

**Machinations**

Morning bells let out there loud calls over the dark city, slowly rousing those residents whom had not woken themselves already. The sun was up already, light masked by the thick smog hovering over the city, a pale, cold orb creeping over the horizon. Kefka leaned against the metal ramparts, staring out over the city, watching lights flick on in windows here and there, slowly but surely illuminating the city.

There was a considerable amount of movement going on in the barracks already, which he had not been expecting. The troops were only ever that active when they were about to deploy, which meant he needed to hurry down there, take up his position as their leader. It was surprising that the Emperor had not said anything at all.

For that matter, Kefka had not seen the Emperor in the last week, his last sighting on the monarch being that banquet. There were no dark whispers floating about the imperial palace, so it could not be illness or any other horrible thing. Kefka was certain he would have been informed of such issues. No, it was something else.

A shiver traveled up his spine, breeze moving just right to give him chills. Frowning, Kefka pulled his yellow trimmed green cloak closer around him, turning away from the high wall at the top of the palace. His plain boots faintly clicked as he walked through the stone and metal halls, cloak swishing around his quick, fluid strides. Mornings were always late and leisurely in the palace, but even so, he passed a few of the workers here and there, hurrying off to their first chores for the day.

Kefka passed the kitchens slowly, curbing his gait so he could breathe in the aroma. It smelled divine, but he knew he would not have time for whatever meal they were preparing with how quickly the troops had been readying themselves. Quickly, Kefka turned down the back hall, heading straight down it and around the last corner to his personal quarters.

Rushing now, Kefka stripped his cloak and casual clothing, pulling his uniform and a small amount of cured leather armor over his lean muscles and smattering of scars. With a jerk, he pulled the straps of the armor tight, wincing slightly as he pulled it too far. Kefka pulled a cord from his desk, running his fingers through his thick blond hair before pulling it back and tying it in place.

It was a struggle to ignore the grumble of his stomach, but he managed it, hooking his flail on his belt as he hurried down the corridor, out into the main thoroughfare.

None other than the Emperor was there.

"Where are you going so early?"

Kefka's blond brows knitted inward, leaving a crease in the sunkissed skin between them. He glanced in the direction the barracks would be, though, being inside, it was to no aid. His throat felt dry again, voice slightly hoarse when he spoke, "To the barracks, Emperor. I saw—"

"They are not your concern anymore."

It took a moment for those words to sink in, and then they hit him, like a bundle of bricks. Kefka swallowed at the lump in his throat, and it just felt worse. "What do you mean?"

"Your second in command—Leo Cristophe?—is taking care of them." The Emperor smiled, a few wrinkles erupting around his mouth. He patted Kefka roughly on the shoulder, letting out a deep bellied laugh. "Come. Breakfast is almost ready."

Kefka recoiled, blue eyes narrowing as he watched Emperor Gestahl at his new distance. Though he tried to push it back, the hurt and worry could not be hidden. "My troops need me."

The Emperor laughed again, a few workers turning to glance their direction as they scurried past. Kefka kept his feet firmly planted on the carpet strewn floor, forcing himself not to shiver in the breeze coming through the close front doors of the palace.

"We will talk about this later. For now, I need food." The Emperor turned, heading towards the food hall. Kefka had no choice but to follow, even if his appetite seemed to have gone with his nerves.

0 0 0 0 0

"Ah! It is good to see you!" The Emperor leaned back in his large throne, smile barely peeking through his mustache and beard. His red and gold robes matched the heavy hangings and banners in the room, and he would have blended in, had it not been for his blond and grey hair which fell in wiry locks about his shoulders. He clapped two large hands together, the guards standing next to his throne marching out of the room, along with everyone else. The large double doors thudded shut, and they were left absolutely alone.

The troops, with Leo at their head, had departed an hour ago, Kefka scaling the ramparts once more to watch them go. It had been a large group, and from what Kefka could tell at that distance, Leo looked nervous. That was… a relief for some reason. The fact that Leo was not gloating his new power, reveling in it, meant, to Kefka at least, that Leo had not usurped him.

That did not stop him from worrying, though. The Emperor himself had removed Kefka from command of that group, after his continued success. Kefka had not lost yet, and every time, he was coming out better. It seemed foolish—beyond foolish—to pull him from command now.

Kefka finally nodded, blue eyes remaining locked on the Emperor, who was surveying him back.

"Stop looking so worried! Cristophe learned from the best: you!" The Emperor seemed to find humor in the statement, though Kefka did not. Kefka shifted his weight from one foot to the other. He should have been marching towards the next battlefield rather than having a very stilted conversation in the lavish throne room, but some things could not be helped. "I have a special assignment for you."

_That_ piqued his interest. Kefka inclined his head, not willing to speak yet. Just letting the Emperor talk would get all of his questions answered faster.

"Our diligent research has located… _something_," the Emperor paused, putting great emphasis on that vague word, "which can turn the tide in our favor for good."

Again, Kefka nodded, listening carefully, if hesitantly. He did not like the sound of this. It almost sounded like the Emperor had uncovered a weapon. They wanted to unite everyone, not destroy them all.

"You are worrying again!" The Emperor laughed merrily, shaking slightly as he continued on. "If all works to plan, we will have at our fingertips something that will make our enemies surrender immediately, no battles, no _casualties_ needed."

That last part was what got Kefka. He was more than willing to listen now. "What do you need of me, my liege?"

"Good! Good! I knew you would be willing to help!" The Emperor clapped his hands, rubbing them together. "Have you heard the legends of the ancient war, where humans used creatures called Espers in battle? Fairytales? No!"

Kefka had grown up on the wild tales of that ancient war, filled with fictional things like magic and three gods of destruction and the creatures used by both sides as pawns for war. His heart started racing, despite himself. Could it really be true?

"And… you need my help acquiring these creatures?" Kefka sounded uncertain, shifting again. This room was far too warm for his uniform; he wondered how the Emperor could stand it in his thick, ornamental robes. The way the Emperor almost frowned told Kefka immediately that he had gotten it wrong. "You already have them?"

It was the Emperor's turn to nod. He stroked his long beard, twirling a graying tip in his bejeweled fingers. "What I need you to do is travel to the north, to the area where I first happened upon the Espers to see if you can find any more. I also need a full report on the current fortifications of their settlement."

"Is anyone to come with me?"

"Just the captain of the airship we have hired and his crew. I want as few to know about this as possible until the time is absolutely right."

"I understand."

"The airship will be docked outside of Vector tonight, after dusk. The captain's name is Setzer. He will meet you at the city gates." The Emperor pulled on a string beside his throne, a bell giving a muffled ring. The main doors of the throne room opened wide, workers rushing inside to attend to their emperor just as the guards entered to resume their usual positions.

Kefka turned on his heel, striding from the room. He only had a short while to pack, and then he would be having his last meal for a while in Vector.


	3. Camaraderie

**Disclaimer:** I do not own FFVI or any of that stuff, as much as I would like to.

**Warnings:** yaoi, dark themes, unethical practices, tragic/dramatic irony, etc.

**Character Note:** Quite a few years ago I was musing about Kefka's makeup while looking at the Nintendo Power original release of FF3 for the SNES, and noticed that in the art, Kefka only looked to have makeup on half his face. From there I kind of wandered to the idea of him having some scars that he was covering, and as I started playing the game, that solidified. So no, I'm not copying the Joker. When I came about this idea, I'd not even seen a Batman movie yet, nor had I read any of the comics. If you don't like it… oh well. Either it will grow on you or it won't, so don't bitch. My story, my choices.

**Author's Note:** I wrote something as insane Kefka the other day, and it was awesome. I think I love his character way too much. And for those wondering, I am going to jump around points of view quite a bit as the story progresses, especially once the game actually starts. R&R is loved forever! Please R&R!!!

**HEARTLESS ANGEL**

**Camaraderie **

The airship touched down just outside of Vector, stairs folding down from the outer door and locking into place. Kefka did not glance back as he strode quickly down the gilded stairs, having no want for further conversations with the captain or his crew. Their mission was over. There was no more need for communication.

New scars shown a shiny mauve across Kefka's lightly tanned cheek, erratic and spidery on the left side of his face. It still throbbed with a dull pain, the source closer to burns than cuts. Those phantom pains were easy enough to ignore, pushed to the back of his head.

At the front of his thoughts was this mission, and what had been the result of it.

By the time Kefka reached the front gates of Vector a group of imperial soldiers was already plodding out to the ship, to unload the precious cargo aboard. The prizes were not as many as he had hoped, but it was more than their simple goal had been for. No one had expected Kefka to return with anything at all.

His steps were quicker than he intended, stride speeding up the larger the imperial palace loomed ahead.

The last few weeks had been spent in unfamiliar territory, on an island to the north, far from normal civilization. At first glance, one could miss the village on that island. The people there were strange, and would not talk to him at all, as though he did not exist. Kefka was almost convinced that it was the other way around, because when he returned from the caverns to the north of the island, there was no one to be seen in the village.

More than anything, Kefka was glad to be home.

The main doors of the metal palace were opened for him, Kefka passing inside to the crimson carpet strewn entry hall. He went straight back to the throne room, the guards there scrambling to open the doors for him.

Emperor Gestahl was not alone in the throne room.

Kefka's steps slowed as he approached, blond brows furrowing, the motion tugging on his fresh scars, making them stretch and burn. He tried not to flinch. The Emperor was sitting on his throne, the usual lavish array of robes draped from his aging body. Beside his throne, sitting back in the wall hangings, was a young girl, playing with little toys made of metal. She had large, strange eyes, not to mention her hair. It may have been the lighting, but her hair looked as though it had a green cast to it.

"You are back! We were not expecting you until the morning!" The Emperor seemed jolly as ever, though the lines around his eyes looked a little deeper, the grey streaks in his hair a little wider. He waved his hand, and the girl stood up, holding her red skirts as she scurried behind the throne into hiding. "Is there anything I should know now, or can it all be saved for the debriefing tomorrow?"

Lowering his gaze, Kefka mulled over the details. He almost did not say a thing, but then he looked up, low voice barely carrying in the cavernous room. "Two Espers are being brought in by your troops now."

The Emperor's smile faded, eyes widening. He leaned forward in his throne. "_Two_ Espers?"

For a moment, Kefka could see the girl's face peering around the throne before she vanished again. Her blank face had been filled with interest for a fleeting moment. Kefka ignored her. "Yes, two. Their names are Ifrit and Shiva."

Stroking his beard, the Emperor reclined back again. Kefka could practically see the gears turning in his head. "You have given me a great deal to think about. I expect a full report tomorrow morning."

"Yes, my liege." Kefka bowed his head, turning and swiftly striding from the room. He could tell when he was not wanted, and now was one of those instances. Rather than stopping by the kitchens to procure a late night meal, Kefka passed them by, turning into the back hallway where his chambers were located, unlocking the door and going inside.

Nothing had really changed except for the thin layer of dust which was now covering his desk and the papers on it. Kefka ran his gloved hand over that surface, knocking the dust off, holding his breath as he fought against a rising sneeze. It did not come, thankfully, Kefka letting out a long sigh.

A knock sounded on the door.

It was late, incredibly late, the clock hanging on his wall telling him that. Most people in Vector would be asleep at this hour. Kefka stepped up to the door, opening it a crack before throwing it open all the way.

In a green blur, Leo dashed forward, arms around him in a warm hug before he could react in the slightest. Kefka tensed at first, and then slowly, uncertainly, put his arms into it too. It was comforting, in a way. With a sigh, Kefka rested his unmarred cheek on Leo's shoulder, fatigue resting all too firmly on his own shoulders.

"What happened?"

Kefka glanced up out of the corner of his eyes, seeing Leo staring at Kefka's scarred cheek like it was something out of a nightmare. He closed his eyes, the only thing that hid his flinch. Kefka had yet to look into a mirror to see the damage.

"He got away." Kefka felt Leo shift slightly, and then a hand was cupping the uninjured side of his face, lifting his head off that comfortable shoulder. He could feel himself being surveyed, Leo turning his head gently this way and that. "The Esper Ramuh got away."

It was Ramuh who had done that to Kefka, and, soon after, the Esper had flown away. The captain could not track Ramuh, nor did he seem to want to, so Kefka did not press it. At the time he had been in too much pain to issue any coherent commands. It was not a good memory. It felt like he had failed, despite the fact that he had managed to bring back two more Espers than the Emperor even expected.

"Your troops have missed their commander." Leo sounded as though he was smiling, though Kefka did not bother opening his eyes to look. He was concentrating more fully on Leo's hand, the way his thumb was rubbing softly at the hook of his jaw.

"Hopefully they did not give you too much trouble." It came out as a mumble, despite himself. Kefka let out a soft chuckle.

"No, no. They performed admirably. They just… all look up to you." Leo paused. Kefka could feel just how close they were standing, a slight burning creeping into his cheeks as he finally thought about it. He usually distanced himself from people, did not let them in like this. He did not move away. "They wanted to know where you went, but the Emperor had sworn me to secrecy. I was surprised he even gave in to telling me."

"The direction of the Empire is changing."

Silence clung to the room, moments slipping past slowly, awkwardly. Kefka chewed lightly at his lip, finally opening his eyes, brows furrowing. He turned his head, staring over Leo's shoulder at the wall. It had slipped out, something that had been worrying him, gnawing at him from the inside, and now…

"Do you agree with where it is going?"

Kefka frowned. Leo was not looking at him with disgust, with surprise, was not pointing a finger at him and yelling traitor. This was not what Kefka had been expecting. He had been bracing for the blow. Rather, Leo looked worried. Not about Kefka's thoughts, but rather, for him. For this. Yes, it was for _this_.

"Emperor Gestahl has given me everything. A home, a life, a purpose." Kefka nodded, slowly. The words were coming easily enough, but there was a knot in his stomach, refusing to go away. It was not the words. "I will follow my liege, no matter what."

A smile brightened Leo's darkly tanned face. He seemed to agree, which was a relief. Kefka sagged into their half held hug, not wanting to stay up but not wanting to move away either. It had been a long journey, a long mission, and he was glad to finally be home.

"Kefka…"

He lifted his head from Leo's shoulder, almost letting out another clipped chuckle at the sight of Leo's worried look. It was good feeling fussed over, for once. It brought a weak smile on Kefka's lips.

Suddenly, Leo leaned forward, their lips pressing together, and then Leo was gone, hurrying down the hall. Kefka stared at the wall, blinking, before he finally turned to stare out his door. Leo was definitely gone, vanished somewhere into the palace, into Vector, Kefka had no idea. Slowly, he touched his lips with gloved fingers, surprise barely letting the causing action register at all.

He was too tired to deal with this right now. Kefka closed the door, locking it before he started to strip down for the night.


	4. Hopes and Dreams

**Disclaimer: **I do not own FFVI. I do not make money from this.

**Warning: **unethical practices, men liking men, tragedy, dark themes, sad stuff, etc. Abnormally short chapters. XD

**Author's Note:** I just realized that I said Terra was a little girl in an earlier section (the last one in fact). Originally I was going to make Terra male, but thinking on it, I think Terra will be a chick. Celes will still, however, be male in this. It just works better for the plot. Oh well.

**HEARTLESS ANGEL**

**Hopes and Dreams**

There was a different air about field training, a nervousness mingled with excitement permeating every present soldier. It was anticipation. Sightings of Emperor Gestahl were once again sparse, and the glimpses were fleeting, the red robed monarch passing quickly. The workers in the imperial palace had much of the same nervous energy, flitting here and there, never staying in one place long enough to say something, much less breathe.

Even Kefka was starting to feel it, though his anxiety was not fueled by the same fire.

Quickly, Kefka stole a look to his right. Leo was standing there, hands tucked behind his back. The brass adornments of his green uniform had been polished to a bright sheen, every last button attended to and put in perfect place. Kefka looked away as soon as Leo started to turn his head, training his pale blue eyes on the troops and the routines they were running.

The formations held as much interest now as they always had. Tactics fascinated him, and he was always taking new spins on the old ones, finding creative ways to surprise the enemy. No matter what combination he attempted, his concentration should not be held.

His gaze trailed over again, shoulders tensing as he saw that Leo was watching him, gaze unwavering—and slightly worried—as usual. Sharply, he clapped his gloved hands together, troops stopping their transition from one formation to another with a start. They all spun to attention, facing the two of them.

Kefka hoped the slight flush to his cheeks was hidden by the glare of the sun.

"That's all for today! Good job, all of you!" Leo nodded to the troops. They all saluted, Leo straightening up to return the motion. "Dismissed."

In a near chaotic flood, the troops headed back up towards Vector, chatting happily and joking around. It was just another day to them. Kefka was glad to see his troops still in top form, having done fine under Leo's command. He had not thought they would do otherwise. He was still unsure as to whether he was glad for Leo or frustrated that he had been replaced so easily.

"You've been distracted all day. Is everything…"

Kefka kept his gaze trained on the mountainous northern horizon, taking a deep breath. It did not help as much as he had been hoping. His heart fluttered despite himself. "The Emperor has yet to reinstate me." That was not the main topic plaguing his mind, but a ready scapegoat.

For a moment Leo was silent, eyebrows drawn in thought. It was that hesitation that bothered him. "I am sure the Emperor has something planned for you."

Of course. Kefka nodded, unable to say anything against that. He trusted the Emperor's judgment, had no reason not to. He would do as he was commanded, even if boredom consumed him.

"That's not it."

Kefka jumped. The light flush on his cheeks darkened, too much to be washed out by the sun anymore. He could not bring himself to even glance at Leo; he knew those eyes were already on him. Something needed to be thought of, and quickly. "I am… debating my place in this system, debating my usefulness and wondering if I can still do the Emperor and his people any good."

"Of course you can!" Leo sounded aghast. It worked. "You are a fine commander, perhaps the best this Empire has ever seen. Do not doubt that."

He lowered his eyes, head inclined downward. His blue eyes bored into the cracked ground, the field that was not quite as green as he remembered. The ground was too dry. Something was killing it, the grass, the trees. Kefka frowned, if barely. "I wish this war could just be over, that I could end it with no casualties, that I could end all the suffering out there in general."

"That is an admirable wish."

Slowly, carefully, Kefka took a deep breath. Leo did not know. The Emperor was probably the only one in the Empire who knew where Kefka came from, his home life before becoming a fixture in the palace and on the battlefield. This was not the time or the place to inform Leo about his background. The slanting rays of the sun told him it was getting into the evening, that dinner was bound to be served soon. The Emperor had been insistent upon Kefka eating in the palace rather than with the guards, in the feast hall rather than in the privacy and quiet of his own room.

Disobeying Emperor Gestahl's orders was not something he often did. Kefka was not going to make a habit of it any time soon.

"We should head back to Vector." His voice came out thicker than he was intending it to, throat tight with a knot firmly settled inside. Kefka folded his fidgeting hands behind him, green cloak concealing their nervous movement.

"Yes. Of course." Leo did not move, though, lingering despite his words. Kefka finally let his gaze slide over. It was not the usual vaguely worried look written across Leo's face this time. It was… something like sadness. "I'm sorry about the other night."

Leo turned on his heel, walking swiftly back towards the city. Soon, he would be out of earshot. Kefka closed his eyes, hands falling to his sides as his shoulders sagged. "Don't be."

He could hear Leo's swift gait slow to a stop, a rustle as he turned. Kefka looked up, seeing the faint line of a smile pull across Leo's lips. For a moment he just stood there, and then he turned once more, hurrying off with a new bounce to his step.

Kefka might have been so elated if he had not known the Emperor was making an announcement at dinner, and that proclamation was going to shake up all their lives.


	5. For the Empire

**Disclaimer:** I do not own FFVI, as much as I wish I did. Square Enix does.

**Warnings:** lots.

**Author's Note:** Well hasn't it been a while? Oops. I wonder if anyone still reads this thing…

**HEARTLESS ANGEL**

**For the Empire**

Time had gone by slowly, melting away second by second. That morning's training exercises felt years away, and yet they were only a few hours in the past. The troops had been glad to see him back out in the field, even if he was no longer their commander.

That should have meant something.

Kefka straightened his green uniform, turning one button slightly so it faced upright like the rest of them. Each brass button bore the Imperial seal, as did the patches on the cloth pauldrons draped over his shoulders. This dress uniform, with full cloak, insignia, polished fittings, was not something he would usually wear, and even when he did, it was grudgingly.

A sigh filtered through his lips. The Emperor ordered it, so he would follow. He always did. If he did not like the direction of the Empire, that was because he did not understand it, and his lack of understanding was because, surely, the Emperor did not reveal everything to him. He did not know the full picture, and he was fine with that.

A short knock sounded on the door, three in quick succession. The banquet was ready. Kefka smoothed out his cloak one last time, trying his hardest to ignore the ripple of scars across his face, blatantly obvious in his reflection. They were not fading.

Straightening his shoulders, Kefka turned, opening the door and walking out. His cloak billowed behind him, green and brass waves. If Kefka had not been so worried, he might have been an intimidating sight with his strong gait, straight shoulders, level gaze, and smattering of scars. Even with the worry, his presence commanded a quiet sort of reverence, palace workers scurrying out of his way and standing at attention until he passed.

It was not something he ever thought he could get used to.

The guards at the door of the dining hall made him wait until the loud, flamboyantly dressed man just inside the door announced his presence. Everyone in the hall gave a hushed clap until he came to stand at the Emperor's right hand. The clap was more formal than of any use, as far as Kefka could tell. He wished they would not bother.

This was a special occasion, though, and required special measures. Even the Emperor himself was dressed more lavishly than usual, a feat Kefka had not thought possible at first. He was even wearing some obnoxious form of headdress with enough gold on it to probably make a small suit of armor out of, not that gold would do any good for armor in the first place. At the very least, the gold could have been used to help rebuild areas decimated by the war.

Drinks were served, the usual choices of red and white wine, along with a few other, more exotic drinks, from villages which were new to the Empire. Kefka was hardly paying attention to the selections, however, gaze roving all of those in attendance. They were mostly scientists and the rich of Vector, but there close to the side of the room was Leo.

Kefka smiled, despite what proper etiquette might say. Leo looked down, smiling into his cup, which he quickly raised to hide his mirth.

He probably would not be quite so nervous if Leo was allowed to sit closer.

The Emperor lifted a bell, ringing it, the clear, sweet noise cutting through all conversation immediately. Kefka fought the urge to roll his eyes; was it really so hard to tap a fork against a glass for attention, rather than getting a specially fashioned bell? It was the Emperor's prerogative.

With a slow lurch, the Emperor stood, face lifted high, a broad grin spreading across his lips, partially obscured by his long mustache and beard. He lifted his glass high, everyone else in the room raising their own glasses in anticipation.

"Tomorrow, our Empire enters a new era." The Emperor's smile fell, lips stern and thin. His voice boomed with surprising strength over the gathering, everyone sitting slightly straighter at the sudden change. "The world has not yet seen the kind of soldier we are about to produce."

The words washed over Kefka, settling like a hard, festering rock in his stomach. He did not like where this was going. They did not need a new breed of soldier. They needed to end this war before more lives could be needlessly lost.

"May I introduce to you my trusted council and the General of this revolution in warfare, Kefka." The Emperor turned towards him, holding out his arms to showcase him.

Slowly, Kefka stood. He held his glass with both hands to hide just how much he was shaking. He forced a taut, uncertain smile, the room erupting in applause.

"To the Empire!" The Emperor thrust his glass into the air, crimson wine, like blood, sloshing over his fingers, dribbling down his arm and into the hem of his exorbitant robes.

Everyone in the room except for Leo thrust their glasses high too, echoing his call. In unison, they drank. Kefka slowly lifted his own glass, not nearly as high, and tipped it back, draining it. Leo took a sip of his own, never removing his eyes from Kefka. He looked worried, but more than that, he looked hurt.

0 0 0 0 0

A hand grabbed his arm, spinning him. Kefka's progress halted immediately. His knees bent, stance spread, arms rising out of reflex.

It was Leo.

Kefka stood there, defenses raised, for a moment longer, not sure what to think. His mind was still spinning with the announcement, with the promotion, with the headiness of the wine slowing down his usual smooth logic. After a moment, he straightened his stance, running a hand over his uniform to smooth it, though the cloth was perfectly pressed.

They stood there, a heavy silence between them. No one passed them in the hall. It was a back corridor, almost to Kefka's secluded sanctuary of a room. He was looking forward to the privacy of that chamber, of removing his stifling uniform, so much so he had not even noticed Leo behind him.

"I found out at the same time as you."

Leo closed his eyes and wetted his lips. Every muscle of his face seemed taut, as though he was holding back a flood of emotion. Quickly, Leo passed his gloved hand over his face, shielding that strained expression for a moment. He rolled his fingers over his temples, messaging them in slow circles. His frown was still visible.

"You know my stance on this war."

"And yet you are going to be the premier soldier fueling the fire." Leo spit the words. The hand by his side trembled as he clenched it hard. It was a wonder the seams of his glove did not pop under the pressure.

Kefka looked away. It was like a slap. The fog in his mind began to pull back, thoughts less sluggish. "He told me they had found a way to end the war without any more lives lost."

"More powerful soldiers will not solve anything."

"He said it would make the resistance surrender, so there would not have to be any more fighting." Kefka couldn't look at Leo. He couldn't meet that gaze.

"At what cost?"

Kefka shifted from foot to foot, trying to stall, trying to find anything to divert attention from the question. There was nothing forthcoming. To anyone else, he just would have told them that they were too low in the chain of the command, that it was only on a need to know basis. He could not do that to Leo. Not with the feelings he found himself fighting with.

"What cost?"

There was no more stalling. "The last report I heard said that the process is… unstable." Kefka forced himself to look up, only to see Leo wiping quickly, subtly, beneath his eyes. The soldier blinked furiously, though Kefka could still see the water in Leo's eyes.

Kefka stepped forward. He took another step, wrapping his arms quickly around Leo, squeezing. He buried his face in the taller man's shoulder. He smelled of wilderness and the slight musk of sweat. It took all Kefka's will not to inhale deeply. "Cid told the Emperor that he needed more time to refine the process, to make it safe. I didn't realize…"

Leo returned the hug, holding him tightly. Kefka relaxed in that grip, if only slightly.

"I… I don't know what drives him anymore…"

"But you will do anything, for the Empire." Leo whispered those words against his hair, pressing a soft kiss to the blond locks. Kefka pressed his face deeper into the crook of Leo's neck, mumbling against it. It was better than having to speak and actually face the truth.


End file.
